Step Out On A Limb
by Anne4
Summary: A mission, new students, and a staircase that leads nowhere. All this and more to pique Harry's interest in the strangers from Canada. What are the REALLY doing at Hogwarts?
1. From Windigo With Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Hogwarts, or J.K. Rowling's characters. Willow, Oak and their friends and teachers are mine though. So is Windigo(the school). Incidentally, Windigo is a Native American legend. It is a shape- shifting giant that steals people away. They say it created mosquitoes as a curse on the Ojibwe tribe for killing it. And Aspen means "Woman Tongue" because the leaves move in the slightest breeze.  
  
  
  
Willow sat among the branches of her Name Tree. As a Canadian witch, at the moment of her birth, she was bonded with a tree and named for it. Name Trees were a sort of stockpile of magic. The witch or wizard fed excess magic into the tree to be used for emergencies or when the witch was low on magical energy. The taller the Tree was, you knew how much magic the wizard put into it. The down side was that pain was sent along the connection to both Tree and magical person. The wizard also took on some of the characteristics of the Tree. Willow crooned an odd tune as she let some of her magic leak into the bark of her Tree.  
  
"We'll be leaving soon you know," she whispered, "We're going to Hogwarts. Can you imagine? The best school in Europe! The Headmaster there wants us to come. Oak, Birch, Aspen, Pine and Fern are going too." Willow smiled, "At least we'll have some friends, eh?" she was babbling by now, "Some may understand why we're so different. The professors over there will, anyway. I wonder if any students will know why we bring trees? The teachers won't tell me how they'll move you though. I hope it won't hurt…" Willow felt her Tree shift uneasily. She patted the limb reassuringly, "But I'll be there, don't worry."  
  
"Willow!" she heard a voice call.  
  
"I'm over here Oak!" Willow pushed her long, almost vine like hair out of her face. The sunlight caught it at the right angle, showing how white it was. If you looked closely, you could see flashes of green streaking through it.  
  
Oak politely waited at the foot of the Tree. It was unspoken law to never touch another's Name Tree. "Gagnon wants us in his office. I think he's going to give us some more info about our mission to England."  
  
She smiled down at the boy below her. Both fifteen, they had always been the best of friends. "Alrighty, do you know if we're practicing our display thing later?"  
  
Oak shrugged, "Who knows?" he ran a hand through his short brown hair, "I think we're as good as we're ever gonna be, don't you?"  
  
"There's always room for improvement. Besides, you an' me are doing the leads. If we screw up, everyone's going to know." Willow declared as she jumped down. "After this meeting I think we should check the Leaf Boards, just to be on the safe side."  
  
Oak laughed, "You worry too much, you silly Weeping Willow. No offense," he said in an aside to the Tree, "but you know how she is."  
  
"Oh, shut up. You know perfectly well I'm an albino Black Willow." Willow muttered as she walked towards the school. As always, the school took her breath away. It was an old fort, like those that fur traders had once used. This had always been a school, hidden away in one of Canada's majestic forests. Before the Fort, there had been the Wigwam. It was said that this was one of the oldest schools in the world. The Native American wizards and witches had used the Wigwam before the white wizards came and built the building that stood before her now. What was strange was that, unlike the Muggles, the two races had blended almost perfectly, the white wizards embracing what had always been taught at Windigo. While bringing in new theories and magical inventions, it seemed a fair tradeoff.  
  
Oak pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped through, Willow following close behind. She let the door swing back with a thunderous bang. Willow looked around the Fort, and the many smaller buildings that were their classes and dorms. Quickening her pace to match Oak's long stride, she remarked, "It seems weird to be leaving, doesn't it?"  
  
Oak nodded solemnly, "It's been like home since we were five. I don't know how we're going to not be homesick." He knocked at the door of Shaman Gagnon's office. Rather than a headmaster, Windigo had a shaman.  
  
"It's open," came the aging voice of the shaman.  
  
As Willow stepped inside, she smelled the spices and roots that hung from the beams like an apothecary. Most of the classes smelled like this, especially the Brews building.  
  
The almost ancient looking shaman smiled at the two students as they entered. "Sit, sit, there's much to be said. Go on, have a seat by the fire." Willow sat gingerly on the hearth beside Aspen, who was as usual chattering about nothing. The slim girls frizzy hair was almost standing on end today, as she was barely able to contain her excitement. Meanwhile, the eccentric shaman bustled to his desk and began opening and closing drawers at random. After opening the same drawer thrice, he found what he was looking for. With a cry of triumph, he held aloft what appeared to be six highly polished sticks.  
  
Pine gave a derisive snort, "Wands? You expect us to place our lives in the abilities of a flimsy stick that may once have been a Name Tree?" he demanded.  
  
The other teens shifted nervously. Delicate Fern finally broke the silence, "Sir, is that why my Tree has been missing a branch?"  
  
"Well.." Gagnon stammered, "Y-yes, they are part of your Name Trees."  
  
Pine gave a outraged yell, "And you never asked us? How did you dare touch them?"  
  
"Don't worry my prickly friend, they were never touched. They each gave a branch willingly. These will be how you connect to your Trees." The shaman explained, "You will be able to tap your resources should you need them. And you will be able to send magic to the Trees. Isn't that wonderful?"  
  
"So, we won't be bringing them to Hogwarts?" Aspen choked out.  
  
"We can't leave them, they're like part of our bodies. It would be like leaving a leg behind." Birch spoke what was on all their minds. He always seemed to know how to get what he wanted from the teachers. There was no way he was leaving without his Name Tree.  
  
The shaman considered for a long moment, the students sitting at his feet with bated breath. "I suppose…" he mused, "There could be a way. Yes, it just might work."  
  
"What is it sir?" Oak pleaded.  
  
Aspen nervously bit her lip, fighting against her own nature to speak. Waiting, the teens felt like they were going to be torn from one of the most important things in a Canadian wizard's life. A witch without a Name Tree was considered a cripple, and usually went crazy if their Tree died.  
  
"We could Apparate the Trees just outside Hogwarts. Then, you could move them inside the grounds yourselves. It takes quite a bit of energy though… And the Trees become more susceptible to disease for about a week." Gagnon told them.  
  
With a certainty that surprised even herself, Willow spoke for the group, "We'll do it. We can go to Hogwarts a week or two before term begins, watch over our Trees and still buy our books."  
  
"And catch the school train, my dear." Gagnon added.  
  
"Train?" Pine scoffed, "Why would they travel by train?"  
  
Gagnon ignored this, "I'll send an owl to Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts explaining the change in plans. None of the students need know about your Name Trees. Now, I want you all to go practice the display. I know you'll all want to show off the sports we play up here, eh?" With this, he shooed them off.  
  
As the door closed behind Fern, Gagnon smiled broadly. Yes, he thought, Willow is beginning to take charge of the group. She'll do quite well as a leader, if only Birch would let her. Oak will always support her though, so that should help. 


	2. Air Dances

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" sneered Pine, "Someone has been tampering with my Needle!" He glared at the five around him. A cool breeze whipped through his hair, throwing it into spikes and making him resemble the tree he was named for.  
  
"Oh, come on!" Willow sighed with exasperation. "You left it out last night and it rained, remember?"  
  
Pine opened his mouth to retort when Oak cut in, "You know, it doesn't look too bad. It actually makes it look like a pine needle." He looked up from Pine's Needle 3000; "It might even make those sparks a helluva lot greener."  
  
Pine snatched the Needle from Oak's hands. "Let's see then, shall we?" He placed his feet on the grips and kicked off. He flew a dozen feet into the air, trailing green sparks behind him, to the admiring 'Ooooh's from Aspen. Frowning, he jolted back down to the open field.  
  
"You see?" Willow murmured, "It'll just help us."  
  
"You mean help you," Pine accused, "You and Oak landed the leads, so where does that place me, huh?"  
  
Fern placed a tiny hand on Pine's shoulder, "You were having on off day then, we know that."  
  
"Yeah, I know you should have gotten the lead." Aspen simpered.  
  
"Asp, you're not helping!" Willow hissed, "Let's just get practicing, ok? If we're leaving early, that means we have to get this down by next week." She hummed a curious ascending note, and music began to play. It seemed to come from all around them. She and Oak leapt on their Leaves and spiraled into the air. Pine and Aspen followed, with Birch and Fern behind them.  
  
Willow rested the palms of her hands on Oak's as they shot upwards. She grasped his left wrist in her left hand, still spiraling. Releasing him, she twirled away from him, arms flung wide. She dropped into a crouch to gather speed as she made a wide arc to return to him.  
  
Oak was doing his specialty, which involved a complicated maneuver where he would fling his Leaf away from him and doing a series of flips in midair before landing on it again. He turned to face Willow, now speeding towards him. As she drew nearer, he leapt off hi own Leaf, straight up.  
  
Willow stood quickly and shifted her weight, preparing for Oak's landing. He jumped over head onto the back of her Leaf, leaving his own behind.  
  
This went on for some time. The music went through a variety of phases, telling the story of the year. The teens would often switch partners, but always returned to their original partner in crime.  
  
Willow floated down as the last chord faded away. Panting, she cooed a descending note and the music stopped altogether.  
  
Birch swooped to a halt in front of her, his pale face livid. "Don't you realize that we should be preparing ourselves mentally for our mission?" he demanded loudly, "We're taking this the wrong way. We could be the ones to change history and what are we doing?" Birch threw his arms wide and gave a laugh of disbelief; "We're doing air dances!"  
  
A soft voice filtered through; "I am the one… who sees what is to come. My friend, do not despair… on how we might fare." If Fern was forced to speak at least two sentences, she was cursed to say them in rhyme. For this reason, she hardly ever spoke.  
  
"What do you see then?" Birch queried.  
  
Fern considered him for a long moment before answering, "More than you seem to in these debates," She landed softly on the grass. "For now, my Tree awaits. I will go and consider our fates." Fern turned and walked slowly towards the Grove.  
  
Oak turned to Pine, "No comment?" he teased, "You usually have some smartass remark whenever poor Fern talks."  
  
Pine glared at Oak over his shoulder, "If I wanted to say something, I would have. You ought to know that Willow, I mean, you are the one who's supposed to see through people." He drawled. Without a backward glance, he zipped off, with Aspen following and chattering nonsense at him.  
  
Birch watched their retreating backs until they were out of sight before speaking, "You know I'm right."  
  
"There's more to air dances than you'll ever imagine…" Willow looked right into Birch's eyes as she spoke.  
  
With a frustrated sigh, Birch jumped the last few feet to the ground. Grabbing his Leaf, he stalked off into the forest.  
  
Afraid to break the silence, Oak let himself drift gently to the ground. Unable to bear it any longer, he turned on Willow. Nodding in the direction Birch had taken, "Is he right?" he asked.  
  
"He thinks he is. He believes in it like nothing else." Was the enigmatic reply?  
  
"Oh." Was all he thought to say. 


	3. To England

"I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I promise… As soon as I get back, I'll sneak off to see you. The second I can get away, I'll be right here." Willow was having a tearful farewell with her Tree. She knew without looking that the others were too.  
  
They had already been at Hogwarts for a week. The Trees had travelled better than even Shaman Gagnon had expected.  
  
Placed in the central tower, the six teens had worried and fussed over their Name Trees. It was a large, circular room with strange swirling patterns carved into the walls. The floor was much simpler; a few lines divided the room into six equal portions, connecting in the centre. Where they joined, a ladder led down to the castle.  
  
"Me and Oak are staying with a wizarding family. I forget what the name is. They have four kids coming to Hogwarts, all in Gryffindor. That's where the Sorting Hat put me. I told you about this, remember? The old hat that once sat on Godric Gryffindor's head?" Willow rattled on.  
  
Her Tree made an impatient gesture with one limb as if to say, "If you must go, you'd better get a move on!"  
  
"Are you sure you'll be OK? You won't get lonely?" Willow was in truth asking herself these questions.  
  
The Tree indicated the other Trees with a sweeping of the leaves. It had the effect of looking not unlike a windy day. "Of course not."  
  
"Alright, I'm going," she hesitated, then asked the question that had been plaguing her since their arrival, "Why don't the English have Name Trees?"  
  
It gave a very humanlike shrug as it placed her not too gently on the floor.  
  
Willow took two steps before turning back, "We're not supposed to talk about Name Trees. If any student stumbles across this room, we're to say we're conducting an Advanced Herbology assignment. Isn't that the craziest thing? Only a fool would believe it!" She smiled as the great Tree shook with silent laughter.  
  
Fern gave Willow a sad smile when they met at the ladder, "We came all this way, only to leave them day after day." She glanced back at her own corner, at the ferns that swept towards them like a living carpet. Willow had seen Fern lie down among the stems and the plant cover her protectively. The slight girl seemed to become a part of the leafy fronds, making one wonder where she had been.  
  
Watching Fern's curly head disappear down the ladder, Willow thought of their mission. We must protect them. Without them, all is lost… 


	4. Guests in the Weasley Home

Ron glanced at the clock, impatience written in his every action, "Mum, can we please go? There'll be enough people to greet them!"  
  
"Ron Weasley, you will stay here. It's not everyday we host children from other countries!" Mrs. Weasley ordered.  
  
Harry Potter sighed, as much as he wanted to meet these two... Americans, weren't they? More than anything, he wanted to play Quidditch. Harry was a very good Quidditch player for his house team at Hogwarts.  
  
"What house will they be in, mum?" Ginny, the youngest Weasley asked.  
  
"I'm afraid Dumbledore didn't say. I expect they'll be sorted with the first years." Mr. Weasley replied.  
  
"Perhaps they've already been sorted, so they can simply drop directly into the fifth year routine." Percy commented from his seat by the window, "In any case, it's Dumbledore's decision on how they'll be integrated into the mesh."  
  
"Who are they, anyway?" Fred asked.  
  
"What do you mean, dear?" Mrs. Weasley responded.  
  
"Well, they've got to have names, right?" George elaborated.  
  
"Let me see," Mrs. Weasley glanced at the letter that had arrived early in July. "Dumbledore writes that six Canadian students will be attending Hogwarts this year. They are each extremely advanced in their studies. He has been assured by... Shaman Gag-none? that they are sociable and willing to adapt to any situation," she glanced at the twins, "All we know is that two Canadian wizards will be staying here for a week. A boy and a girl, I believe. Canadians usually travel in pairs, so two guests is not entirely unusual."  
  
"Canadian wizards are known for being a little odd," Mr. Weasley added, "Fudge visited the Minister of Magic over there once. Apparently, the poor chap spent half their meeting conversing with trees."  
  
There was a moment's silence before Hermione joined in the conversation, "I've read somewhere that they live in Muggle cities and that some even hold Muggle jobs."  
  
"Really now? I hadn't heard that. I wonder how much these two will know about parking meters?" Mr. Weasley mused.  
  
Harry turned his attention away from the conversation to stare at the fireplace. How would they be coming? He thought back to the beginning of his fourth year and the spectacular entrances the visiting schools had made. A flying carriage, a ghostly ship... What could the visitors of today bring?  
  
"Good Lord, is that the time?" Percy exclaimed, pulling Harry from his reverie. "I must get to the office." He then Disappparated into thin air.   
  
"Why's Perfect Percy in such a rush?" George queried.  
  
"Doesn't want to put a blotch on his spotless record by being tardy," Fred gasped in horror, "he'd be a nightmare if he was!"  
  
"As the acting head of the department of International Cooperation, Percy must sign the documents allowing our guests to stay for an extended period of time. Especially nowadays," Mr. Weasley explained, "I must ask you all to be careful. It will be difficult to know who to trust with You-Know-Who on the rise..."  
  
As he spoke, Percy's head appeared among the flames. "We're coming through. Ginny, for goodness sake! Stand clear!"  
  
With an "Oof!", a burly boy tumbled out of the fire. A slender girl and Percy followed him closely. The two former picked themselves up quickly. Harry noticed first how tall they were. The boy had a messy mop of hair, somehow clumping together to give the impression of many layers. He was deeply tanned, whereas the girl beside him was almost his opposite pole. Her long white hair reached her waist. A few stray wisps hung in her bright red eyes.  
  
"Welcome to our home," Mr. Weasley stretched out a hand to the boy.  
  
"Thank you, sir. I'm Oak Hain and this is Willow Baum," He replied, shaking Mr. Weasley's hand.  
  
"Thank you for letting us stay," Willow added.  
  
The next few moments were a whirl of activity as two trunks arrived. A cot was unfolded next to the one occupied by Harry. Willow was placed with the two girls' in Ginny's room. Giggles were coming through the walls.  
  
"I don't want to know what they're up to," Ron stated decidedly.  
  
"I'm guessing you like the Chudley Cannons," Oak commented.  
  
"Yeah, do you play?" Ron responded.  
  
"Once in a while. How about you two?"  
  
"I play Seeker for Gryffindor house," Harry responded.  
  
"I'm going to try out this year," Ron added.  
  
"Oh, cool. Quidditch isn't as popular back home, but it's almost as common as our sport," Oak chewed his lip thoughtfully, "maybe a bit more popular..."  
  
"So what is your sport?" Harry asked.  
  
"I'll teach it to you one day. As soon as we get to Hogwarts anyway. You'd need your wands to play," he responded, "this is a bit embarrassing but, I didn't catch your names."  
  
"This is Ron Weasley and I'm Harry Potter."   
  
To Harry's shock, Oak didn't do the familiar eye flick upwards to look at his scar. The tall boy merely raised an eyebrow, his face unreadable. It wasn't a condescending look, but obviously unimpressed. He turned to Ron, "Weasley...? There's a girl at Windigo by the name of Cedrat Weasley. Are you related?"  
  
"I dunno. My family is rather large; it's hard to keep track of them all. I might be though," Ron said thoughtfully.  
  
The remainder of the day was filled with laughter as they swapped stories with the two guests.  
  
"What's Hogwarts really like?" Willow asked.  
  
"Well," Fred began, "you'll want to avoid being in Slytherin at any cost. And I mean any. Nasty lot, they are."  
  
"Draco Malfoy and his gang for starters," George growled.  
  
Harry noticed that Oak and Willow looked at each other as if sharing some dark secret at the mention of Malfoy. He wondered if the others had seen the identical look flash across their faces.  
  
"Malfoy? Who is he?" Oak leaned into their circle.  
  
"He's awful. He'd like to think he's popular, but everyone except the Slytherins hates him. He spends most of his time insulting any Muggle born he can find. You know, calling them Mudblood and the like," Ron's ears began to turn a peculiar shade of pink.  
  
Willow narrowed her eyes, "The bastard. Anyone else we should avoid?"  
  
"All the Slytherins," they chorused.  
  
"What about teachers?" Willow twirled a blade of grass in her fingers.  
  
"McGonagall is strict, but fair," Hermione recited, "Professor Trelawney is an airhead. Her Divinations class is useless."  
  
"Snape favours the Slytherins," Ginny chimed in.  
  
"Flitwick always has a good class," George added.  
  
"But let's not forget Professor Binns," Fred laughed.  
  
"What about him?" Oak asked.  
  
"You'll see..." Fred and George gave them two identical grins.  
  
"Why am I suddenly scared?" Willow joked.  
  
Later, in the middle of the night, Harry awoke to the sound of footsteps. He opened one eye cautiously. To his astonishment, he saw Oak climb onto the windowsill. He perched there like a bird for a few seconds before jumping out the window.  
  
Grabbing his wand with a shout, "Accio Firebolt!" Harry tore across the room to the window. His broom sprang into his hand as he leapt out, hoping to catch Oak before he hit the ground. There was no one. No body on the ground, no one in the air. Only Harry, hovering on his broom. He flew slowly around the outside of the house and garden, searching for a clue. Greatly perplexed, he returned to Ron's room. He was shocked to find Ron and Oak fast asleep as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Harry never saw the two pairs of eyes watching him from the trees. 


End file.
